


Champion

by sceawere



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, Caretaking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Orphans, Romani & Travelers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: Anon request - Bonnie being cleaned up after a fight.





	Champion

There was a sick twisting of excitement and agony rolling in your stomach as you watched the fight. Every time Bonnie fell you gasped and held your breath until he staggered back up. He’d told you to expect a show, explained the plan, but watching it play out was something else.

You were used to watching your boyfriend fight. You’d been there the day he’d thrown his first real punch, when the both of you were but knee-high. Your families moved together, moved apart, but you and Bonnie always found each other.

He’d trained up with your brothers, your cousins, fought boys from the families in parks and fields. You’d stand by the side, shouting him on, gasping and grappling. You’d clean him up when the day was done, help him count the winnings, daydream about what you’d spend it all on. There was a tin, tucked away beneath your bed roll, with your half of the money tucked away for the wagon you were going to get together one day.

But this wasn’t a field, wasn’t a fair ground fight with family boys. He was fighting a proper man in a proper ring in a proper fight. He’d never cut before. Never had you worried like this before. You kept circling the ring, moving round and round to keep eyes on him. You could hear your brothers screaming even over the crowds, the roll of Shelta cutting through the drunken screeches of the baying crowd. His sister tried to corral you back to a seat, tried to calm you as you kept your eyes latched tight to every move he made, every swing and stagger.

You screamed out when the big man hit the ground, dragged the women around you into a jubilant huddle. When you turned around to find Bonnie, he was being carried around by his father, and you laughed, watching the scene. His sister pulled you backwards into her arms, and you laughed even more, peppered into the long draws of relieved breath, head dropping back onto her shoulder. The shot pulled you back to the ring.

-

Bonnie kept looking up at you, barely blinking the whole time you dressed his wounds. The slightest twitch of his eye as you folded your fingers over the thick slice at his cheekbone stilled your movements, the only expression of his pain since you’d started. You flicked your eyes to his, taking a quick breath before finishing your work.

“I’m fine” he insisted once the bandage was affixed, the first words he’d spoken to you.

He’d roared when you’d finally navigated through the huddle of tunnels to find him. His dad had pulled him away once the situation had calmed down and someone had managed to pull the Shelby man away. You’d tried to chase after them but there’d been a rush in the crowd – half escaping in haste once they were allowed, the others so drunk they’d promptly forgotten the terrifying event and fallen straight back into celebrating.

Bonnie seemed to be so drenched in his own adrenaline, so worked up from the victory that he fell into the latter camp. He’d roared when he saw you jog through the doorway, jumping up from the bench to grasp arms around your waist and lift you up so high you’d almost conked your head on a light fixture. He’d swung you around, making incomprehensible noises of celebration, beaming as wide as the swelling would allow once he dropped you back to your feet.

It had fallen from his battered face once he’d clocked your expression, and he’d fallen silent as well. Aberama guided him back to the bench, patting your shoulder as your relief morphed into annoyance.

“Bit of brain damage, I think. We shan’t notice the difference” he joked, throwing a look back at his son as he guided the others out of the room and left you to patch him up. It was your tradition, from the first time he’d thrown a punch until now. You fixed him up, calmed him down, set him right again.

“There were men with guns, Bonnie” you spat as your shaking fingers worked on his wounds.

“There are men with guns back home as well” he replied, and you shot him an unamused look.

“Not strangers. I’m still not sure about the Shelby’s” you explained, and he reached up to run his thumb over your cheek.

“They’re not strangers. They’re part of the families”

“They’re erratic and I don’t trust them yet. Your dad told me about his grandfathers and theirs- “

“That was half a century ago. I know you’re good at holding grudges, my love, but that’s excessive”

You rolled your eyes, moving to fetch fresh supplies.

“I’m fine” he repeated when you returned from the sideboard, a bowl of fresh water and a cloth in hand. You hummed, wiping down his arms, his chest. Flecks of blood ran into the sweat of his skin, and you weren’t sure if it was that or the exertion that had his whole body flushed pink. He was still metering his breath. Long, deep, precise breaths.

“You better not have cracked a rib” you muttered, drawing the cloth slower over his side as you noticed a blossoming bruise settling into the skin there.

“You agreed for me to do this” he reminded, sitting forward and pulling you onto his lap. You snuggled your forehead against his temple, avoiding as much of his swelling as you could.

“It was an incredible opportunity and I’m proud of you! I really am!” you pressed a kiss to his hairline, and then leant aside to meet his bruised eyes “I just don’t like seeing you beat half to hell”

You traced a line over his eyebrow, the pad of your finger barely touching him, as your own forehead wrinkled.

“Would you prefer I liked seeing you beat half to hell?” you asked, mockery dripping in your tone.

“I’d make a joke about you being rough with me but my head’s starting to hurt, and I don’t think I can risk another hit tonight” he still managed a smirk under all the damage, and you swallowed your own as you pushed off and returned the now bloody bowl to the station.

“Your adrenaline’s wearing off. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning” you muttered as you cleaned everything up, your own worry still echoing through your body.

You heard a groan of agreement behind you.

“Please tell me your sisters are sleeping in with your aunt or your brothers or something” he asked, and you turned around.

You and Bonnie were motherless children together, had held each other tight through the storm of misery you’d both suffered. You’d taken on the mantle of mother to the youngest girls, a point of pride for your boyfriend, but if he didn’t wish you had some more time to yourself. And more space.

“Nope” you made sure to pop the sound, watching as he stared out the corner of his eye over to you, looking exhausted.

“Dovie’s going to crawl in with us and jump on my ribs at dawn, isn’t she?”

“Well, she’s a baby, they’re wont to do that. You won’t have to handle it if you sleep in your own bed” you quirked your nose with the sarcastic suggestion, trying to tamper down the smile that was working its way onto your face. You were unable to hold it after a few moments though, and his own grin grew.

“Not bloody likely” he replied, and you laughed. The joking around broke the last of the worry in your bones, and a peak of excitement finally rushed in.

“He was three times your size!” you blurted out, pushing away from the counter as you waved your hands in front of you, exaggerating every word “When you squared up, Alda had to hold me back. I was ready to jump in and start swinging myself!”

He was laughing when you dropped back onto his lap, fingers splaying over the section of ribs his own fingers had been fluttering over as you spoke.

“Although, speaking of dear Alda and the big guy…” you trailed off, enjoying the sickening look that came to his face.

“No”

“I think maybe” you whispered conspiratorially, biting at your lip as you watched the concern rise in his eyes.

“No”

“She seemed interested” you shrugged “You got a pretty girl to clean you up, why not him?”

You shrieked in laughing shock as he pushed up and you near fell off his lap, putting yourself between him and the doorway.

“Let me pass” he insisted, not enjoying when your laughter increased. He tried to surge forward but you slapped your hands against his chest and manoeuvred him back against a wall.

“Simmer down, Bonnie boy” you pushed up on your toes, pulling his face down so his gaze met your smirking face.

“You just told me my sister is- “

“A big girl who can deal with herself. She can handle the big guy, trust me” you murmured, trying to lure him down into a kiss but he kept fuming.

“That’s what I’m worried about” he muttered, eyeing over your shoulder as you giggled again.

“I think Goliath is really the one we should be worrying about, given that  _Esmeralda_  has taken a liking. Let’s be honest. He’s a poor wounded boy, and your sister is…” you descended into laughter, Bonnie letting his head loll back to the wall.

“Now you know how my brothers feel about you” you sing-songed, tucking your head into his chest.

“Not to mention my uncle. You should have heard Johnny Dogs when he first realised where I was sneaking off to all those times. With a  _Gold_  no less” you laughed, and he sighed, letting the burst of fury go.

“But now my man’s a champion” you crooned, finally coaxing him into that kiss.

His hand moved up from where they were gripping at your elbows to cup the back of your head, moving to press a kiss to your temple when you pulled back.

“I’m sorry for making you worry” he whispered, switching tone.

“I’m proud of you” you insisted.

“Please tell me you were joking about Esmeralda” he begged, and you laughed.

“Get your shit together, Mr Welterweight. I’m taking you home”


End file.
